Dating Elizabeth
by Wondo
Summary: Peter recounts his first date with Elizabeth. Neal and Mozzie are the captivated audience.
1. Chapter 1

Dating Elizabeth

What was Peter's first date with Elizabeth like? I have often wondered….

Chapter 1

There was a steady, heavy pounding on Neal Caffrey's door. It was the type of knock that only a law enforcement officer would make. Neal, pausing in his scrutiny of an image of an aged manuscript, hurried to answer the summons. If he had to guess at the identity of his visitor- -Peter Burke would be the answer. Why would his mentor be visiting him this late on a work night? They had been together all day at the office struggling to identify the perpetrator of a recent theft at the Rubin Museum of Art (RMA). The RMA, in the Chelsea district of New York City, was a cultural and educational nonprofit that housed a collection of Himalayan artifacts. It was known for its comprehensive collection of paintings, sculptures and textiles.

"Okay, hold on, I'm coming," Neal called out.

He opened the door of his apartment and in rushed his partner. Peter was carrying a case of inexpensive beer, a moderately priced bottle of red wine, and his bulging office briefcase. Neal's caller thrust the wine into his hands and walked quickly over to the refrigerator.

"You don't mind if I keep these cold, do you?" Peter asked.

"Not at all," answered a caustic Neal, "feel free to come in and make yourself at home any time of the day or night." He scrutinized the bottle of wine.

Peter deliberately ignored the sarcasm. "Thanks Neal, I'll do that."

His friend took four bottles from the case and stored the rest. Peter appeared out of breath and was wearing the same disheveled suit he had on earlier in the day. Had he even gone home to have dinner with his wife Elizabeth?

"What's up, Peter? I thought you once told me there were only a certain number of hours per day you cherished my company. Now you're at my door during the TV sports hour."

Peter walked over to the bookcase and spied Neal's small chess board. He picked up a knight, gestured with it and hastily replaced it when he observed Neal's annoyed countenance. "Well, umm, I thought we could continue to brainstorm the "Stupa" heist tonight. We didn't get very far with any plausible theories today."

Earlier in the week, Peter and Neal had been assigned the task of investigating the unusual theft of an 18th century Himalayan painting titled: "Stupa. A Representation of Buddahood". The painting had disappeared several days before its scheduled exhibition premiere.

It was a baffling case with no identifiable suspects or motive. The exquisite painting, done with natural pigment on cloth, was beautiful and antiquated but hardly considered a coveted acquisition for any well-informed white collar criminal.

Neal knew Peter was irritated by their inability to progress further in the investigation, but the case was neither high profile nor on the top of Agent Hughes' priority list. No, something else had instigated his partner's appearance at his apartment tonight.

Neal removed the manuscript and papers from his table and sat down. He motioned Peter to join him.

"Did you and El have a fight?" queried an amused Caffrey.

"No!" exclaimed Peter. He paused, wearily sat down at Neal's table, and glanced around the room. "Well… she unexpectedly scheduled her catering associates to come over tonight. They're having some client issues and I," Peter hesitated, "graciously offered to let them have free use of the house." He smiled insincerely, opened his first beer and began to drink the brew.

"Elizabeth kicked you out of the house tonight," Neal surmised correctly.

"Yes," Peter conceded. "When I told her I'd go to the gym to find a pickup basketball game she suggested I come here instead. It seemed like a good idea." He shifted in his seat. "We can have a few drinks and analyze the material we have so far on the Rubin case. Maybe make some headway."

Neal smiled. His partner had nowhere to go tonight after being evicted from his home by a group of women! He didn't really mind the intrusion.

The two associates settled in at the table. Peter took the time to remove his coat and tie and open his briefcase. He removed several files of material he hoped would assist them in analyzing and dissecting the known facts of their baffling case.

Neal opened the wine Peter had generously purchased and poured himself a full glass. He politely refrained from offering his expertise on the variety chosen. Peter had bought a bottle of Castle Rock Pinot Noir for his associate. He obviously had requested a domestic wine known for quality at an affordable price. He had made some effort to find what he hoped would be acceptable to a wine connoisseur.

Sometime later as Peter finished his third beer and was starting on his fourth, knocking again was heard on Neal's door. This time the sound was muted and hesitant.

Peter looked questioningly at his partner who shrugged with uncertainty. "Maybe its June back from the movies," Neal presupposed.

"Open up, Neal," shouted a familiar voice.

Peter snorted and grimaced with distaste. He immediately took a large swig of beer. Neal smiled and proceeded to open the door to his old friend Mozzie. As the short, balding man entered the room, he spied Peter Burke lounging at the table.

"Oh," he blurted out, "you already have plans for the evening. I'll change my itinerary."

"I had asked Mozzie to stop by," Neal replied answering Peter's questioning look. "He was going to gather any scuttlebutt on the street about the missing "Stupa".

Peter waved Mozzie over to the table. "Join us. I'm anxious to hear what you found out. Hey, Neal offer the man some gin." He peered intently at Neal's buddy. "That's your preferred drink, right?"

"Sure," replied a hesitant Mozzie. Why was the suit so accommodating? How much alcohol had the nemesis agent already imbibed?

The eccentric lawbreaker slowly eased himself down in the chair next to Burke. He glanced over at Neal's boss with unease.

Neal carried over a glass and half-filled bottle of gin for his old companion. "You wouldn't have any food to go with this would you?" questioned Mozzie. "Some exquisite tidbit that June left out for you?"

"Hey, that's a great idea," added Peter. "Some food and drinks for everyone."

Mozzie became even more apprehensive. The suit wanting to bond with the infamous duo….

"I'll find something for us." Neal got up from his seat and rummaged in his kitchenette cabinet. He arranged some fruit, cheese and crackers on a platter and placed it on the table. Mozzie and Peter both reached for the food at the same time. Mozzie, awkward around the federal agent, began to quickly swig his gin.

The unconventional trio began to discuss the aspects of the RMA art theft. However, as the evening wore on the normal constraints of their relationship, usually distinct and defined, began to topple. First Peter, and then Mozzie, became somewhat inebriated. Even Neal, drinking more moderately, felt himself becoming mellow.

Mozzie turned to Peter with a quizzical look on his face. "How come you aren't home with your beautiful wife tonight?"

Peter with a warning glance at Neal replied, "She had an important engagement."

"Are you in the doghouse?" Mozzie abruptly asked.

The agent's body tensed in his chair. "Let's get this straight. My wife and I are doing fine." He leaned in toward the smaller man. "How is your love life?"

Mozzie skirted the question. "Ha… haven't you heard? Love is a temporary insanity cured by marriage."

Neal, attempting to halt any antagonism, shook his head at Mozzie. He questioned Peter, "You never told me the story about how you and Elizabeth met. Didn't it have to do with some kind of surveillance you placed on her?"

Mozzie adjusted his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, didn't she hold up some kind of sign to get you to ask her out?"

Peter glanced in shock from one man to the other. How had they known these particulars? What had Neal told Mozzie about his private life? More disturbing- -what had El told Neal about their first date? Peter Burke was usually a very private man about personal affairs but, in his alcoholic daze, he felt a compulsion to clarify the details to these two men.

"I was sure El would turn me down if I tried to ask her out," he began.

Neal poured himself another glass of wine. He had always been curious how Elizabeth and Peter began their courtship. He had a hard time visualizing Peter sweeping El off her feet. "Why did you feel that way?" he asked with anticipation.

"Not everyone is like _you_," Peter remarked. "Elizabeth is an unusually beautiful woman and well… look at me," He gestured at his body. "I don't look like I stepped off the pages of some New York glamour magazine."

"I agree," cut in Mozzie.

Peter directed his gaze to Neal's odd friend. Was he being accommodating or insulting?

"Moz," Neal interrupted.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" queried Peter with a bleary look on his face.

"Yes," exclaimed both men in unison.

Peter pulled up the memories inside him…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Twelve years earlier….

It had been a rough week for Peter Burke. He had been enduring the unwelcome company of a new probie agent. The young man, Ryan Connolly, had been shadowing Peter with excessive zeal. Ryan seemed like a friendly sort, fresh out of the FBI academy, eager to excel but very inexperienced. His major fault was indecisiveness. With any issue not expressly covered by the handbook, Connolly verified, confirmed and revalidated the proper procedure with the more senior agent. Burke was beginning to identify his new assistant as an irritating gnat buzzing around his ear.

What was especially galling about the situation pertained to one of Peter's current cases involving a recent art theft at a small gallery in midtown Manhattan. The Thomas Gallery on East 82 Street specialized in the art of the 19th and early 20th century. A John Singer Sargent watercolor painting was reported missing from the gallery. Although it was one of the artist's lesser known works it was still an embarrassing loss to the proprietor. Anxious for the recovery, the gallery owner had placed pressure on Peter's supervisor for a quick resolution. Connolly's presence at Peter's side seemed to hinder his movements causing delays within the investigation.

The suspected perpetrator of the robbery, a little-known bandit named Simon Wheeler, was a minor player in white collar crimes. He had, in the past, often returned to the same crime scene for repeat thefts. Peter had requested a surveillance team to monitor the gallery in the hope that Wheeler would return.

A witness in the case had endeared herself to the agent. Elizabeth Roth, the young assistant manager, had spied a suspicious individual loitering in the gallery several days before the theft. Peter had questioned her at length several times and found her to be an excellent eyewitness. She was not only astute and informative but friendly, vivacious, and extremely attractive. He made it a point to stop by and converse with her whenever possible. Of course, when Connolly was by his side it limited his ability to discreetly gather personal information. Peter had cautiously asked the surveillance team to observe Miss Roth for any visitors she might entertain while at work. He hoped to surreptitiously discover if there were any boyfriends in her life.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On Thursday afternoon of that hectic week, Burke and Connolly paid a visit to the gallery. Peter hesitated in the doorway until he spied Elizabeth at the far counter. She was laughing at something her coworker, Shelley Meyers, had just uttered. Meyers, catching sight of the two men, giggled and elbowed Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked up and gave both men a friendly wave. She directed her captivating smile toward Peter.

"Agent Burke," greeted the lovely brunette, "we were hoping to see you again."

Approaching the service counter, Peter was inwardly captivated by her reception. Not many people responded so well to the presence of federal agents. He was enamored by her angelic face, warm smile and arresting blue eyes.

"Have you had any further leads on the case?" Elizabeth questioned. She leaned forward on the counter and Peter caught a whiff of tantalizing perfume._ Should he ask her out on a date? Would that be a conflict of interest? Did he care if it was? Would his pursuit of her be rejected out of hand?_

Agent Connolly grinned and responded to Elizabeth's question. "We hope to catch the crook on our surveillance monitor," he declared. The junior agent winked at Shelly Meyers who responded with a flirtatious look.

Peter sighed and motioned for Connolly to step back from the counter. He took out his small notebook and looked for his pen. Patting down his pockets he failed to find one. Elizabeth noticing his distress searched for the office pens that were usually left out on the counter for customers.

"All my pens are missing too," she noted with dismay. "People walk off with them all the time. One customer even took my special pen that was a gift from my dad at college graduation."

"People will walk off with anything you leave out," Peter noted with a nod. "I'm sorry you lost your pen."

Connolly glanced from Peter to Elizabeth. He was inwardly amused with the pair. It was obvious to him that the analytical, no-nonsense, by-the-book, government agent had a school boy crush on the assistant manager! Burke's reputation in the unit might be pristine but he had no aptitude for amorous flirtation. Who cared about missing pens? Burke wasn't going to get anywhere with the girl if he didn't ask her out. Connolly moved closer to Shelley and made a dismissive gesture behind Peter's back. Shelley smiled but Elizabeth was angered.

"I was going to write out a note for you," said Peter. "Would you make a list for me of any customers you felt were acting unusual, in any way, the past several weeks? Any of your regulars who were upset or curious about gallery security measures?" He paused and added, "We've narrowed down a suspect but I want to tie up any other loose ends."

"Of course," Elizabeth responded warmly.

Peter directed Connolly to follow Shelley Meyers into the backroom for a list of additional John Singer Sargent paintings and prints owned by the Thomas Gallery. With the two out of earshot, Elizabeth smiled and reminded him of their past discussions about local restaurants. They conversed pleasantly for a few minutes and Peter mentioned that he was partial to Italian cuisine. As he gathered his courage to ask her out, Connolly returned from the back and Peter lost the moment. He glanced at his unwelcome assistant and inwardly groaned. There was no way he would make a public display of his attraction for Elizabeth Roth.

The two agents said their goodbyes to Elizabeth and Shelley. Peter directed Connolly to stay with the surveillance team and he headed back to the office in the agency vehicle.

During the drive back to FBI headquarters Peter Burke mused over the attraction he felt for Elizabeth. He had all but given up on the fantasy of finding a special woman to share his life. Due to his taxing agency schedule, desire to excel in his field, and lack of free time, his previous dates had all ended in failure. He was not a man given to social chitchat, flirtation or idle compliments. When he attempted to steer conversation to the safe topics of sports, work or current events the women he dated had seemed unimpressed or downright bored. Any witty repartee he managed to eke out seemed to fall on unresponsive ears.

Still considered a junior agent in the white collar unit, Peter Burke had placed himself on the fast track for success. His priority was the bureau. He placed his time, talent and energy foremost in his profession. How could he possibly ask any woman to share that kind of life? He couldn't even get past the casual acquaintance stage without angering a new girlfriend over his agency commitment. Who would bother to look past his work ethic to discover the man he really was inside? Yet, Peter had begun to sense a deep need in his life for something other than his career. Would he always endure a rather lonely personal life? Now in his early thirties he had begun to contemplate the appeal of marriage.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shortly before dinnertime, Peter received a call from his junior assistant. Connolly, with an amused tone to his voice, requested his presence back at the gallery.

"What do you need now, Connolly?" Peter queried in a weary voice. "This better be good."

"Oh this is _good, _Agent Burke. Only you can handle this situation. I don't want to spoil the surprise," answered the young man.

Peter was annoyed. He scowled at the phone in his hand. "I don't like cryptic messages from probie agents," was his rebuke.

Connolly countered with the remark, "you'll like this one."

Mystified, Burke drove back to 82nd Street. As he climbed out of the sedan, Connolly met him across the street from the gallery. In his hand was a small snapshot. The photo contained the likeness of Elizabeth Roth, posing in front of her store holding a sign. The handwritten caption on the sign read, "I love Italian". Peter's face turned a shade red with embarrassment as he realized that Elizabeth had taken it upon herself to initiate a dinner date with him! Elizabeth was bold enough to make a public display.

"I saw Elizabeth come out of the gallery and look toward our van," Connolly explained with amusement as he scrutinized Peter's face. "She held up the sign and asked if you were nearby. I took a photo for you with our instant camera. Cute, huh?"

"Cute," replied Peter.

He straightened his tie and crossed over the street. In the doorway, waiting for him, was Elizabeth smiling.

"I hope you're not mad," she remarked as he approached her. Peter smiled broadly and shook his head. He gently took hold of her arm.

"Mad about what?" he asked as he looked down at her.

"Elizabeth, do you have plans for tomorrow night? I wanted to invite you to dinner. Would you like to try Antonucci's?" Peter paused, " I could pick you up around 7PM."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and pretended to consider the idea. After a moment's hesitation, she agreed. "I would like that very much."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Now we're getting to the good part," slurred Mozzie.

Mozzie and Peter had vacated the table and were slouched at either end of Neal's sofa. Dirty plates and crumbled napkins littered the coffee table in front of the men. The bottle of gin was becoming depleted and several additional empty bottles of beer were lying at the floor by Peter's feet.

Comfortably sprawled in his easy chair, Neal faced his two friends.

"Hey, wait," shouted the senior agent. "I need to tell Elizabeth I'll be home really late!" He searched for his cell phone with fumbling fingers.

Neal stretched and yawned. "I already called her, buddy. She knows not to wait up for you."

"The story…. continue please," directed Mozzie.

"Okay….."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next day progressed very slowly for Burke.

His casework was unusually light. It was a good omen that his social engagement would go off without a hitch. Dinner reservations at Antonucci's were confirmed and he had time during lunch to slip into a specialty store to pick up a surprise gift for Elizabeth. All was going according to plan. An agency friend had even stopped by his desk and offered the use of his personal vehicle for the evening- -a nice break from public transportation. Perhaps this time he could dare to be hopeful.

Peter whistled at his desk as he envisioned the evening schedule. He expected to leave work early, rush home to shower and change, and pick up his date by 6:30 PM.

Life was good, or so he thought.

A phone call that afternoon began to disrupt his meticulous agenda. He received notification that one of the New York agents, specializing in international art theft, had received a tip that antiquated maps stolen out of Rome had surfaced in a local museum. Several of the missing maps had already been recovered in numerous European countries. Any maps discovered and authenticated in the United States would be quite a coup for the bureau. FBI Director William Sessions had placed a high priority on the case as a favor to the Italian government.

Burke's boss, Special Agent RJ Robinson, instructed Peter to verify the information at the museum and assist any agents on the detail. Burke and Connolly rushed to the scene with the required search warrant. The entire scenario involved several hours of investigation, arrests and confiscation. Peter arrived back at the office behind schedule.

Hesitantly, he called Elizabeth to explain the situation. She was very understanding and offered to meet him at the restaurant at a later hour. He jumped at the chance to keep the dinner date. Running late he rushed home to shower, change and pick up the car left by his friend. He even took several extra minutes to locate his lucky tie and verify that he had Elizabeth's gift safely encased in his suit coat pocket.

Although he left Connolly with strict instructions to remain on duty to answer any questions about the recovered maps, he took his cell phone and office pager with him to cover any unforeseeable problem. Connolly had orders to call him only in an emergency.

Peter arrived at Antonucci's only thirty minutes late. He quickly scrutinized the waiting area. Elizabeth, however, had been seated by a sympathetic waiter. The server gave Burke a disdainful glare as he approached the table.

"This lovely young woman has been waiting here alone for quite some time," sniffed the man disapprovingly.

Peter motioned the man away and turned to Elizabeth with chagrin. "I am so sorry I'm late. You have been so sweet." He collapsed in his chair and took hold of her hand. "You don't deserve to be treated like this. I planned for this evening to be special and I've already upset you."

"Peter, let's just start the evening over," she suggested. "No more reproaches. I'm looking forward to stimulating conversation and outstanding Italian cuisine." She had taken special care with her outfit and makeup and looked exquisite in a blue winter dress that complimented her eye color.

Peter sighed with relief. The evening was going to be salvageable. He smiled at Elizabeth across the table and noticed she had already ordered wine for both of them.

"I ordered Pinot Grigio. I believe that's an excellent choice for any Italian cuisine," Elizabeth said with a smile on her face. She lifted the glass and offered a toast.

"Wonderful," replied Peter as he reached over to clink her glass.

They proceeded to spend the next several minutes in pleasant conversation as Peter brought her up-to-date on the Italian map theft and recovery. She seemed genuinely interested in the case and observed how focused he was on accurately describing the details of the crime. With eyes animated, Peter made use of emotion and body gestures to expound with enthusiasm. She realized how significant federal law enforcement was to him.

By the time they ordered their meals of pumpkin ravioli and spicy penne, the conversation drifted to other topics. Peter had learned that Elizabeth spent her early years in Rochester. He excitedly described his growing up near Syracuse and attending Le Moyne College on a baseball scholarship, majoring in criminology. Elizabeth knew several friends that attended the Jesuit school and she was familiar with the campus.

As they began to converse about their favorite areas in upstate New York, Peter's pager and cell phone both chimed. He apologized and stood up. "I'll just answer this outside," he explained.

Connolly was on the line relaying apprehension about completing their map heist paperwork. Since the case was high priority he was worried about the content and format of the documentation. Peter quickly tried to reassure him of the procedure and again reiterated that he was unavailable for any routine office questions!

The same waiter again caught his eye with a frown of displeasure as he entered the restaurant. Peter returned the frown with a glare. "Don't expect a big tip," Peter muttered as he returned to his table.

Peter apologized for the interruption and sat down once again. He asked Elizabeth about her future plans with the art gallery. He was surprised to find out that her job was only a temporary stepping stone to a different profession.

By the time they had dessert Peter and Elizabeth were conversing like longtime friends. Their discussion was turning to sports when Peter's cell phone rang again. His body stiffened and this time he wasn't able to keep his temper under control.

"I'll answer this call and make sure it is the last one tonight," he told his date as he stormed off from the table.

When he heard Connolly's voice on the phone he barely kept his voice civil as he asked what the junior agent wanted. Again the younger man reiterated his concern about the documentation. Since this case would reach the Director's level the probie wanted Burke's expertise.

Peter sarcastically assured the agent that the FBI Director would not be reading the reports tonight. He told Connolly to go home and he would work with him tomorrow. Peter hurried back into the restaurant, avoiding any and all employee countenances, and once again seated himself at the table.

"Elizabeth," he began, "I bought you a small gift today."

Peter took a small, narrow, elaborately wrapped package out of his suit coat pocket. He proudly reached across the table and handed her his offering.

She smiled with delight and quickly tore open the package. Puzzled, she paused as she scanned the gift and looked up in surprise to Peter.

"It's a pen," she declared.

"Remember, you lost your special pen?" Peter explained with misgivings. Suddenly he wasn't sure his gift was appropriate.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"A pen!" exclaimed Neal. "You bought Elizabeth a pen?"

Peter shifted uneasily on the sofa. "Why? What's wrong with a pen?" he asked.

"Many reasons," answered Neal. "Does woefully unromantic mean anything to you?"

"A Federal bureaucrat's notion of largesse… _yet_ practical," intoned Mozzie.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elizabeth witnessed Peter's dismay. Suddenly, she didn't know what touched her more, the thoughtfulness of the gift or Peter's recognition of her sadness over the related loss. Seated in front of her was a perceptive warmhearted man. She graciously thanked him for being so considerate.

When dinner was over Peter motioned for the waiter to bring the check. The man slowly approached the table and rudely dropped off the bill. Peter was now determined to under tip him.

The agent smiled at Elizabeth and reached into his suit coat for his billfold. His face paled and he began to search his pockets with increasing desperation.

_No, thought Peter. This could not be happening. He had been in such haste to change and rush to the restaurant that he had left his billfold in his earlier clothing. The priority before leaving his apartment was remembering his lucky tie and the gift! _

_He was on the brink of utter humiliation._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"What's wrong, Peter?" asked Elizabeth.

Her date groaned audibly. "I don't have my wallet," he admitted mortified. "Wait, maybe they'll take my IOU if I show them my identification." Peter reached for his FBI badge; his face a study in misery.

With shoulders shaking, his lovely companion put her head into her hands.

Now it _was _utter humiliation. Peter Burke had made Elizabeth Roth cry.

Elizabeth shook with renewed emotion. _Hold on, he thought, she isn't crying she's laughing._

"This happened to me once," she remarked. "Don't worry. I have my charge card with me."

Elizabeth wiped at her eyes and reached across the table to hold his hand. "I've had a wonderful and remarkable evening tonight, Agent Burke. And you can repay me for the meal some other time."

The assistant manager and the federal agent smiled at each other across the table.

Peter sat back in his chair and braced himself for the waiter's insolent return.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There was a moment of silence in the apartment. Neal and Mozzie looked at each other.

"Ah….," Mozzie began but failed to complete his sentence. He had to choose his remarks carefully. After all the fed might have a concealed weapon.

Putting down his wine glass and looking pensive, Neal shifted to the edge of his chair. He hesitated to reveal his thoughts.

"Peter, are you telling us that on your first date with Elizabeth, you gave her a Hallmark pen _and_ made her pay for the dinner?"

"Wait," interjected Neal's eccentric compatriot, "I want to get this straight first." He cocked his head and peered directly at the agent. "This is the same Elizabeth that I met at your house. This is the same Elizabeth that you married."

"That's right," replied Peter.

"Okay, just checking."

Neal let Peter off the hook. Leaning back in his chair and looking bemused he remarked, "Unusual emotional ploy for sympathy. Brave but dangerous technique."

Mozzie agreed, "This could be a Lifetime movie…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After leaving the restaurant, Peter drove his date to a pier near the Hudson River. There was a favorite trail he often wandered when he needed time for personal reflection. He was anxious to show the area to Elizabeth. The couple strolled hand in hand along a scenic, well-lit pathway. The evening was remarkably warm and the stars were slightly visible in the night sky.

The granite-paved walkway allowed public access to the river. There were spectacular views of the water and a visible panorama of beautiful landscaping. The area was lined with stone walls, stunning gardens and strategically placed benches. Situated nearby was a flowing fountain that locals used for a meeting place.

"Elizabeth," Peter said softly, "tell me more about your plans to become an entrepreneur."

Elizabeth pulled the young man over to a park bench. They both sat down while she gathered her thoughts.

She hesitated to detail her future profession. In the past, her dates, work associates, and even friends had responded with skepticism or scant interest when she shared her aspirations.

"I am going to be a special event coordinator and create my own business catering to corporations," she proudly remarked. "Right now I'm getting experience with in-house events for the gallery. I've already run several fundraisers and receptions which were quite successful." Elizabeth laughed. "I'm networking and creating a small clientele."

"Peter," Elizabeth continued, "I know I have a long way to go in the field but first I plan to work part-time with an established event consulting firm. People will get to know me if I offer excellent service and creativity."

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she enthusiastically exclaimed, "I've been taking night classes at City Tech in event planning and I'll have my certification soon. The program emphasizes organization and communication skills. It's been teaching me how to conduct research, create designs, select the right vendors, everything! The program even covers trends in the industry."

Elizabeth hesitated, "You see, I'm covering all the bases."

Peter motioned for her to continue.

"I know I can do it," Elizabeth asserted. "It'll just take time, perseverance and maybe a little luck. Some people work from home, at first, until they build up the capital to rent office space. I may try that."

"Don't you see how exciting the whole prospect will be?" she asked him. Elizabeth carefully observed Peter for his reaction. "What do you think?" Elizabeth's voice was anxious.

Peter's smile was understanding- -he recognized Elizabeth's passion. It was so reminiscent of his enthusiasm and fervor for the bureau. He felt a kinship with her zeal.

"I think you're amazing," he replied as he reached up and lightly stroked her cheek. Elizabeth smiled as she felt his warm touch. Peter had attentively listened to her whole speech.

"Don't give up on your passion," he counseled. "or limit your dream. I'm looking forward to seeing your name on some prominent firm in New York City."

Peter felt blessed as he gently kissed the woman with whom he was becoming enamored. He had finally met someone who made him want to become more intimate. Was this the woman who would share in his own aspirations and dreams? Was this the woman he would not only come to love but cherish?

Maybe tonight was the start of a new life…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back at the apartment, Neal began to pick up the night's debris. He stacked the empty liquor bottles and threw away the trash.

He smiled as his glance traveled over to the sofa where a federal agent and an aloof rebel snored peacefully together. It had been quite the evening for disclosure.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to research the RMA theft. His boss would be hung over and quite apprehensive in the morning. Nervous about what he may have revealed, Peter Burke would probably be a bear to work with all day. Neal wasn't particularly bothered by the supposition.

He slowly turned off each individual light in his apartment.


End file.
